It was the V magazine party and everything was going as planned. Waves of black and white balloons bobbed up toward the top of the Boom Boom Room, their strings dangling down into the hair of men in tuxes, woman dressed like Elizabeth Taylor. The week’s roaming party has a guest list that changes little from venue to venue — Roitfelds smashed up with Rachel Zoe, models with faces familiar from that day’s runway, Courtney Love. It’s a party The Observer had talked about before the lights went down at Lincoln Center. It had buzz. It made sense, hearkening back to Truman Capote’s Black & White ball at the modern-day New York venue most appropriate for it.

We shouldered out way through the crowd, past Usher in his fireplace nook in the back, and walked up and out to to balcony. On our way up, we ran into Karlie Kloss, who just might be the world’s reigning supermodel.

“Just wait for Ralph tomorrow!” she said after we complimented her. And she was right — after modeling three of the Roaring Twenties looks at the Ralph Lauren show this morning, we’re convinced she’d make a fine Daisy Buchanan.

And, of course, Lindsay Lohan with her entourage, a group members refer to as “The Family,” occupying a booth by the room’s right side.

“Is she drinking?” a friend asked.

We were standing next to an ice sculpture of a kneeling woman and life-sized inflated zebras were being flung over the heads of dancers on the dance floor.

And she didn’t last night, either. Well, she threw a drink at a photographer, but it’s Fashion Week, and drinks go airborne sometimes. He real brush with danger came when a woman at the table immediately next to her fell into a table, got a nasty gash on her shoulder, and was taken out on a stretcher. The plush couch was mottled with blood, and a heap of paper towels were soaked red, too.

“And she’s still drinking vodka!” said an onlooker. She was indeed drinking a clear liquid, though could it have been water? It was probably water.

Update: she’s OK! We hear from a source that she was just a little cut up when she was put in the ambulance, and is totally fine today.

But for the moment, confusion ensued. Where to put Lindsay? And everyone else? What to do with all this leftover Magnum Ice Cream?

There’s a solution here. Everyone walked down the street to Electric Room, where Lindsay and and crew continued to hang. Mary-Kate Olsen was there, too, and despite the intimate setting at the new underground spot — you are always sitting next to everyone — they didn’t seem to cross paths.

And Lindsay’s Fashion Week press blackout continued apace. The Observer walked toward her and, when she saw who we were, she tapped a companion and pointed at us.